


Green As Gold

by i_write_a_lot



Category: White Collar
Genre: Art, Elevator Make Out Scene, Gen, Irish, Language Barrier, M/M, Other - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-02
Updated: 2013-10-02
Packaged: 2017-12-28 05:50:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/988449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_write_a_lot/pseuds/i_write_a_lot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An Irishman tries to charm Neal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Green As Gold

**Author's Note:**

> -I do not own White Collar.
> 
> -I'm not Irish, so forgive me for any mistakes made in the Irish Language. I used the internet to research the terms and stuff, and here's the site that I used for those that want to know what Desmond is really saying. If there's any Irish that read this, some suggestions about language would be much helpful. Comments and Kudos much appreciated, thanks.
> 
> http://www.irishabroad.com/culture/slang/irishslang.asp

“Oy, Peter!” The Irishman spoke loudly, said indignantly, even as Neal was entering the room and looking towards him and Peter’s team with interest while the others about the room were watching them with just as much interest if not more so from the women. Neal picked him out to be Irish-or maybe Scottish?-almost immediately by his accent, and he noticed that even Diana looked interested by the accent. He almost smirked, but instead paused as the Irishman (Scotman?) spoke again, moving away from the team and heading off towards the doors that Neal had just come through. “Ye better not be acting the maggot, ye wrangly mutt!” 

There was a murmur of confusion from around the room, even as Neal came up to Peter and the team, wearing his favored black hat, and suit. Neal glanced towards Detective Callahan who was already making his way past him towards the doors. 

“Who was that? And what’s ‘acting the maggot’?” Neal asked, puzzled. 

“I assume he meant playing around or some such thing like that,” Diana said, answering him. “Boss, are we really going to be working with Detective Callahan? He’s…rather confusing.” Diana said, and Neal smirked at her. She punched him-lightly-in the arm, and Neal winced.

“Ow! Police brutality!” He gained a few laughs, but most of the agents were all busy working. “Peter, what’s going on? Are we working with Scotland Yard now?”

“Not Scotland Yard, no, but close.” Peter said with a faint grimace. “Detective Desmond Callahan is here to help track down a missing painting from the Irish Cultural Museum, or something like that.” 

The doors opened, and Detective Callahan’s voice came back. 

“Forgot my bloody coat!” He said, moving quickly towards Peter’s desk, where there was, indeed, an unfamiliar coat slung over it. “Hey…Neal Caffrey right?” He asked, staring Neal up and down, as though admiring him.

Neal grinned. 

“That’s me. Consultant and Criminal for the FBI’s White Collar Division,” Neal said smugly. Det. Callahan smirked. 

“Well, then, yer rather dodgy, ain’t’cha?” Det. Callahan said with a slow drawl that made Neal’s skin tingle. “And how’d ye wind up workin’ for these dossers?” He asked, and Peter frowned. 

“I think we were just insulted,” Peter muttered to Diana and Jones, Jones of whom just rolled his eyes, even as Neal smirked at him.

“You tell me,” Neal said with a shrug. “It was either this or prison, and believe me, I’d take this over prison any day.”

“Aye,” Det. Callahan said with a nod. “Don’t blame ye, mate. Must be off yer nut, though, working with these lots.” 

Diana actually giggled at that, and they all looked at her. She blushed brightly, and said, 

“Er…sorry.” She said, and quickly made to leave off. Neal almost laughed at how embarrassed she seemed to be. 

“Neal…will ye mind chattin’ with me while I leave the Guard?” Det. Callahan asked, and Neal nodded. 

“Sure, I’ll walk you out.” Neal said, and turned to Peter with a raised eyebrow. “I’m sure that won’t put me back in prison, escorting your guests out?” 

“No,” Peter said with a roll of his eyes. “It won’t send you back to prison. But that sarcasm might,” He added, and Det. Callahan snorted even as Neal smirked. 

“Come on, Detective…” 

“Detective Desmond Callahan. Call me Desmond,” He added with a sly wink, and Neal actually struggled in not blushing outright. 

“Er…right.”

Somehow they wound up getting onto the elevator together alone, and Neal couldn’t believe his luck. Not only was Desmond insanely attractive, but Neal might be able to persuade him to get some inside knowledge about Matthew Keller…as he was pretty sure that was why Desmond was here, seeing as there’d been more than a few people from different countries coming to inquire about Keller.

“Would ye…snog a bit with me, aye?” Desmond asked, and Neal’s brow furrowed as he looked confused. Desmond laughed. “I mean…uh…do ye mind if I kiss ye?” He asked, tentatively, and Neal blinked and then smirked…and then pressed the halt button the elevator, making it stop abruptly between floors.

“Give it your best shot,” Neal offered, and Desmond hesitated. “Seriously…I won’t tell, and I’ve never kissed an…a-Scotsman? Before.” 

“Irishman,” Desmond said with a nod. 

“Ah, sorry.” Neal said quickly, and Desmond stepped forward. 

“Don’t be,” He said softly, and Neal blinked at the change. He was slowly pushed against the wall, and Desmond gripped him around the waist, holding him as though he were afraid Neal would fall to the floor, somehow, or disappear. “I’ve always been an admirer of yer work, Mr. Caffrey.”

“Call me Neal,” Neal said hoarsely, and Desmond smiled…

Then he hastily stepped away, looking guilty. Neal frowned. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, confused and worried. 

“I…I was originally sent here to sway you away from the White Collar unit, so that you can come work for Ireland’s Guard,” Desmond said, sounding frustrated and guilty. “I was to lure you to our country…in any way possible. I didn’t think…but this is-wrong, Neal, it’s just plain wrong.” 

“You’re sounding less Irish,” Neal pointed out, and Desmond nodded. 

“I’m half’n’half. Me mam’s an Irishman, while my da is an American.” He explained, and Neal sighed. 

“Listen. You can still kiss me. I might one day be able to go to your Guard, but I doubt it’ll happen any time soon. Unless you help me find and stop Keller,” He said, on inspiration. 

“And find a way to release me from my sentence, then I won’t be able to go.” He hesitated. “I do find you attractive, though, Desmond. Even if you were trying to lure me away…I’m honored you find me so important,” Neal said seriously, though he smiled at the same time as he said it.

“I shouldn’t kiss ye. It’s no’right,” Desmond muttered, looking embarrassed. 

“Oh, for-” Neal grabbed him roughly by the shoulders and slammed him against the wall, and Neal slammed his lips against Desmond’s, locking them together. Desmond seemed momentarily taken aback, frozen against the wall, but then he was moving…kissing him hard, rough…

Neal gasped when Desmond’s slightly cool hands found the back of his neck, bringing him in harder for his kiss…

And the elevator started up again. 

Almost immediately Desmond broke apart, looking both arosed and slightly stunned by what had just occurred. 

“Wow,” Neal breathed, sounding awed. “Irishmen really are as good as gold when it comes to making out,”

“Ye ain’t seen nothun, lad,” Desmond said, his voice slightly raspy. “Here…” He quickly helped fix Neal’s shirt and jacket, and by the time the elevator came to a full stop and the doors opened, both looked as though nothing had happened. 

“Are you staying in New York for long?” Neal asked as they stepped off the elevator. He spotted Peter, Diana, and Jones waiting by the front doors, though he doubted that   
Desmond noticed. Desmond shook his head. 

“Nay, I’m leaving for Ireland tonight.” Desmond said ruefully, eyeing Neal. “Though…I might be persuaded to stay?” He asked, sounding hopeful. 

“If you can find any information on Matthew Keller…it would help bring me closer to you…and your Guard,” Neal said, hesitantly. 

“Consider it done,” Desmond said immediately, looking at Neal with a frown. “Will ye be alright here, fella?” 

Neal half-smiled. 

“I think so,” He said, casting a sideways look towards Peter and the team. 

“Aye,” Desmond said softly, and turned towards the traffic that was awaiting him. “Maybe one day, I’ll return and we can catch some flicks, and get gee-eyed,” He suggested, and   
Neal chuckled. 

“I can tell I’ll have some Irish research and translation coming up in my spare time,” Neal said, and Desmond sighed. 

“Sorry…I meant…see some-movies? And…get drunk?” Desmond said hesitantly, obviously not familiar with the American language. 

Neal nodded. 

“I look forward too it.” Neal said, and Desmond nodded, and then turned…

And left.

Peter approached him a few moments later, and the first thing that popped out of his mouth was, 

“You realize that the elevator had its camera running, Caffrey?” He sounded rather amused. 

Neal cursed.  
~*~

The End


End file.
